Yesterday, my buddy HD and I had our first date in a loooong time. I have a big-girl job now and he goes to big-boy school (well, pre-school) four days a week, so we don't get to hang out as much. But yesterday, I had the day off and he needed to get out of the house, so off we went to one of our favorite places in the whole wide world besides Baskin Robbins (ok, we went there too): the Mayborn Museum. Seriously, we were there so much during the summer that the employees now think he's my kid.
HD had the flu earlier in the week and had been cooped up in the house for several days, so my man was full of energy and READY TO PLAY. At one point, when he was literally bouncing off the walls of the Weather room, a random dad made a comment about how different little boys are from girls. I said, "Yes, I don't ever remember throwing myself against a wall for fun". Then I walked away and pretended I didn't know him. Just kidding...weird kid.
We hit all the favorite rooms...we looked at the turtles, and the stamps, and the big fire truck, and the "Fancy Shoe" room, in which we both had to try on various shoes and hats (and I prayed we didn't get head lice) and HD created a rather dashing outfit out of a pair of silk M.C. Hammer-esque pants, a glittery vest, wooden shoes, and a sombrero. Then we made our way down to the other end of the hallway, where we played in the water table and HD got to stand inside a giant bubble.
Directly across the hall from the bubble room is a giant walk-through replica of a beating human heart. HD usually isn't interested in it, but today he walked right inside and pressed his ear against the wall. "Is this what MY heart looks like?" he asked. "Yes, this is what your heart that's inside you looks like", I answered. I pointed out the four different parts, and how the noise that we were hearing is similar to the one that the doctor hears when he listens with his stethoscope. What happened next was one of those moments that made me wish I had a video camera so I could capture it forever:
With a big grin on his face, he crawled inside what I believe is the right ventricle, looked up at me, and asked, "Is this the part where Jesus lives?"
After I picked myself up off the floor because the sweetness killed me dead, I answered, "Yes buddy, that's the part where Jesus lives, and I hope you always remember that". Then I called his mom, who called his dad, and his grandma, and his aunt, and I'm pretty sure his Sunday school teacher.
Oh, to have faith like that...to believe that Jesus is always inside of you, nestled there somewhere around your right ventricle, guarding your little heart at all times. As believers, we still have faith that Jesus is always there, but somewhere along the way, for many of us, the childlike innocence has worn away and fear and doubt have crept in. I know that's the case for me. I just hope that now, after witnessing a child's sweet, pure profession of his faith and trust that Jesus really is always with us, I will remember that, too.
Headaches, stress, pride, and living grace
12 years ago
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